To Hell in a Handfasting
by BeckySharp
Summary: Severus Snape and Viviane Chance get drunk, get stupid and get handfasted.
1. Default Chapter

To Hell in a Handfasting

The usual disclaimers apply - all characters are JK Rowlings, except Viviane Chance.

_How could this happen? _ Viviane thought, dropping her head into her hands. _How?_

She was sitting at her dressing table, hordes of excited students and Professors chattering around her, while Hetty Hooch kept making inappropriate comments and getting quietly pinched by Germaine Sprout.

The last thing she remembered about her getaway weekend with Severus was Apparating to Greta Green for some of the famous whiskey brewed at Hardwicke's Wizard Pub, drinking quite a lot of it and waking up…waking up…with a rather nice emerald ring on her finger and a severe hangover. It was puzzling, but the puzzlement turned to horror when she'd discovered the marriage certificate lying on the dresser. Yes, there they were, pictured under their signatures, she and Severus, holding each other up and grinning like sodden idiots. A rather dubious-looking wizard in judge's robes was waving over their shoulders.

They'd tried to get out of it. Severus had been as taken aback as she by the proof of their folly, _although he hadn't been cheap enough to demand the ring back_," Viviane thought, twisting the massive stone around her finger.

"Oooh, Professor Chance," screeched Lavender Brown, grabbing at her hand. "Who would have thought Professor Snape would have such taste in jewelry. It's so-"

"large," sighed Parvati, wistfully.

Viviane was very, very sorry she'd only Petrified them on that first day of class.

On their return, they immediately went to Dumbledore, in hopes he could help with a very quick and even quieter divorce. Severus, _that blasted fool_, simply shoved the certificate at Albus instead of explaining their errand. Any hope of escape was over, once the Headmaster realized what had happened. Viviane found herself hugged, patted, petted, feted, showered, and now she was about to be very publicly handfasted, before her brain and her evil, dangerous streak could possibly reassert themselves to extract her from this heinous mess.

Severus stalked about his room, randomly breaking things, as the rest of the fools who crowded his dungeon drank off several shots of Old Ogden's.

"Buck up, old pal," yelled a tipsy Sirius. "I hate your guts, but you're a braver man than me, to have married that crazy wench. Soon, in less than an hour, we're going to make it official, Hogwarts style! Cheers to you!" He shoved a full glass of whiskey into Snape's hand. Snape drank half of it off in a gulp and withdrew to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he covered his face with his hands. _How could I have let myself be trapped like this? Surely, this was her idea. Did she plan this? Is she going to insist on moving in to my dungeon? _He raised his head and reached out to give the damp stone wall a loving stroke of his fingers, as if to reassure it against the possibilitly of such a foul violation_. Or will she make Dumbledore move me into her rooms? Just who brought up the idea in the first place? _He tried to remember everything that had been said and done that night, but all memories were blurry after that sixth round of Hardwicke whiskey.

_It wasn't me who suggested it? Was it? The last thing I want to do is marry, and to marry her…if I did, in some kind of lunatic, whiskey-fueled frenzy, she must think that all this time I secretly…I did buy that ring. I think._

He groaned and dropped his hands back down to his lap. "Oh, blast the woman," Snape yelled, picking up his glass in order to hurl it against the wall, but then thought better of it and drank off the rest of the liquor. Getting up from the toilet, he shook out his ceremonial robes, blood red and of finest silk, trimmed with gold that shone discreetly in the light. "I look like one of those Catholic Muggle vicars," he snarled at his reflection. "All I need is a staff and a big pointy hat."

The noise in his rooms got louder, as the Headmaster had apparently arrived to escort him to the grove where the ceremony would take place. Snape stood in the bathroom and listened to the jolly hubbub, hating all of them with his very best virulence, the kind he usually kept for large dogs and heroic, famous boys. The night before, those idiots had thrown him something called a 'bachelor party,' meaning they'd gotten completely blotted at Rosmerta's, returned to Remus' rooms for more alcohol, presented him with an overlarge cake out of which Hetty Hooch jumped naked, and ended by throwing him in the lake. Snape sighed and wished he'd had the presence of mind to fill his pockets with large rocks.

Viviane was still sitting in front of her mirror, staring morosely at her breasts, pushed high by her gold satin-and-lace corset, while Hetty was taming Viviane's mane of hair into an intricate pile of braids. Somewhere, echoing dimly outside her confused thoughts, were phrases from the other women in the room.

…"so romantic…she saved his life, you know…."

"…a runaway match…who would have thought…"

"…she must love him so, although I don't know why…"

"…I bet it took him months to plan…"

Everyone got quiet when the door opened, and someone made a move to throw a sheet over Viviane. Standing up and draining her glass of champagne, she glared at the offender. "I'm not a parrot-" she snapped, but stopped in amazement at the sight of Madame Trelawney, dressed in yards of what looked like curtain sheers and pearls enough to bankrupt several hundred oyster beds.

"Hello, my dear Viviane, and congratulations," she said, rather more mistily than usual. "On your joyous occasion, I must admit it makes me sorrowful…my own lost love, and I _told_ him the Nundu hunt would be fatal - but enough of this, my dear." She drew herself up into a triumphant pose, and proclaimed, "I have brought the dress!"

"The dress?" Minvera queried. "It's in my rooms - how did you-"

"Oh no, Minerva," Trelawney said. "I'm sure whatever you came up with is suitable enough, but this is special…meaningful….fraught with destiny…."

Lavandar and Parvati held onto each other and sighed.

Viviane backed away as Trelawney waved her wand and went into a trance.

"No. No, don't. Please, no-"

"You are only a few years younger than she was when she died, poor Muggle princess" the Seer chanted. "You were both of puissant ancestry…and your deaths will be so similar and at the same age, although yours will be much more painful and disturbing than a mere auto crash…"

A huge swathe of ivory silk appeared in the room, borne by drugged, gilded pixies, singing in tinny harmony as they scattered silver confetti behind them:

_Even though you'll be dead quite soon_

_Even though we'll mourn you with tears_

_Wear this dress and put aside fears_

_And enjoy your love under a crescent moon._

They bore the dress towards the shrinking Viviane, and dropped it over her struggling head. It molded itself to her body, encasing her in a mass of ruffles, crinolines and enormous leg 'o mutton sleeves.

"It's soooo beautiful," breathed Lavandar and Parvati.

"Well-" hedged Hermione.

Hooch and Sprout fell over a wine table and lay on the floor, giggling.

"Er," said Minerva.

Sinistra passed out from the total overthrow of all of her aesthetic sensibilities. Madame Pince caught her, and Madam Pomfrey whipped out her smelling salts.

"Get it off me, _now_," hissed Viviane, holding her arms away from her body and not daring to move.

"Certainly," said Minerva, recovering her briskness and ridding Viviane of the dress with a wave of her wand. They both ignored Trelawney's murmur of "Our dear late Princess…my beloved betrothed, the late Horatio Mudwren," as she subsided into a plump armchair. Malhereuse flapped over to roost on the back and began to survey the pearls with great interest. Parvati and Lavender had tried to affix a large, white bow to his neck, but desisted after losing chunks of their arms.

Minerva cleared her throat. "Viviane, as your friend and mentor, I consider it a privilege to provide the dress you'll wear to your handfasting." The older woman reached out to touch Viviane's cheek in a tender gesture. "You deserve happiness, and if Severus can provide that, I'm thrilled that you found each other."

Viviane studied the carpet in acute embarassment, and only looked up at the collective gasp as Minerva's offering appeared. Viviane's eyes widened in astonishment. "Oh…I cannot accept-"

"Yes you can, my dear," said Minerva, as she and the others helped to drop the dark green velvet carefully over Viviane's head. It was perfectly tailored to her figure, sweeping into a full train from the narrow lines of the bodice, which laced up the front, allowing hints of her gold corset to peek through. The hem and the neckline were embroidered with an exquisite pattern of vines, as were the ends of the long sleeves, ending in a point on the back of her hands.

Everyone stood silently, gazing at the lovely vision that looked nothing like the crazed mess of a woman they were used to.

"Wear it in health and happiness," whispered Minerva, as she embraced her friend. "Er, okay," mumbled Viviane.

"One more thing," she added, gazing over Viviane's shoulder. Cho, Ginny, Pansy and Millicent burst into the room, arms full of blood-red roses and heads full of swoony excitement.

Ginny, her face as red as her hair that signified the obvious blazing beauty of her future self, but for now made her look like a distressed peony, panted, "Professor McGonagall, we tried to get the hair from a unicorn's tail to bind the wreath, we really did, but every time we got a unicorn to lay its head in our laps, it would run off as soon as we explained our errand and mentioned Professor Chance's name..."

"Oh. Oh, no matter." McGonagall waved her wand, and the flowers, shedding their thorns, wove themselves into a wreath which descended onto Viviane's head. Hetty settled it in place with a few deft touches, and everyone fell back to admire Viviane a second time.

"Are we ready, yet?" she snapped.

Minerva took her arm. "Yes we are, my dear. Come. It is time to be united to the man you were destined to love." A fresh wave of nausea made Viviane reach for her freshly filled champagne glass, but McGonagall performed a deft interception and steered her out of her rooms and onto Hogwarts' lawn.

"Dumbledore has given us permission to Apparate, this once. You must be very dear to him, Viviane, because I've never heard of this happening before."

_You never heard the whole story about the incident in his Pensieve, either_, Viviane thought, but the next moment was yanked through space and landed on a lawn redolent with embarassing memories.

She turned to Minerva. "Here? There ceremony is here, at Malfoy's?"

"He offered. He said that he'd enjoy seeing Severus give himself the worst possible punish - I mean, realize his happiness."

Lavandar, Parvati and Pansy sighed, followed a little later and much more emphatically by Hermione.

Viviane gazed up at the Malfoy manse and shrugged. _Can't get any worse, I imagine._

Everyone stood around for a few moments, taking time to admire each other's toilettes. Minerva was dressed in a tartan silk, dark green and blue and enlivened by black rickrack trim. The plaid gave an illusion of blocky curves to her spare figure, making Poppy, swathed in a very low-cut silver lame gown, swoon a little. Hermione was so respelendently beautiful in her sleek chestnut hair and perfect figure, encased by a cloud of peach taffeta ruffles, that the other girls, clad in various hues of pink silk (except for Cho Chang, in slinky black satin), growled at her. Ginny secretly wept at the horrible contrast between her hair and gown, and thought that Harry would never, ever love her.

Hetty and Germaine were practicing the steps of the Black Bottom in vintage flapper outfits, bought during a trip to a Muggle consignment store. Hetty was vivid in a red dress of excessive fringe, and Germaine smoldered in a blue bias-cut silk, topped by a boa. It hissed at Miss Pince, who had arrived in a seersucker trouser suit. Miss Pince rapped it smartly on the head, and it shut up. Arabella Figg was present, dignified in a gown of black bombazine with ruffles of yellow ochre at neck and wrists.

"Now," Minerva said, biting off her words more crisply than necessary, "we all must form our procession, and we'll meet Severus and his attendents at the back of the mansion, then process together to the momentarily sacred grove. We did some serious disinfecting last week," she added in an undertone to Hetty.

The women fell into place around Viviane, Minerva and Arabella supporting her as Mother and Crone, Hermione trailing behind as a rather surly Maiden, sneezing from the cascade of petals and herbs that the other students were tossing about.

Severus stalked off, forcing the rest of the men to catch up to him. "Where are we going?" he snarled at Dumbledore, who was glittering in a blue and gold robe, embroidered with the figures of Merlin and Nimue. They were busy doing very naughty things to each other.

"Hold on, dear boy, and I'll show you," Dumbledore said, grasping Severus' arm. The Potions Master felt the sharp tug of Apparation, and found himself on the side lawn of Malfoy's mansion. Lucius was there, a dignified smirk on his face.

"Severus, I offer you the use of my gardens as a token of our age-old friendship. It will indeed be amusing to witness you irrevocably chain yourself to a dangerous harpy - I mean it will be an honor to see you united to your true love."

Remus came forward and took Severus' other arm, in time to prevent it from connecting with Malfoy's nose. "It is time."

The processions approached each other, rich materials, incomprehensible banners, and happy grins glinting in the sun. Dumbledore looked faintly radioactive.

As they got near enough to stop squinting, a gasp rippled throug the wizards at the sight of Viviane.

"She is resplendent as the morning sun," whispered Flitwick.

"I always knew Viviane was beautiful, underneath the murders and the scowl," stated Remus.

"Her beauty rivals that of a Hungarian Horntail in heat," sighed Hagrid.

"I'd do her," declared Sirius. Remus glared at him.

"Severus looks like a murderous Muggle cleric," commented Viviane.

"Yes, well, red isn't really his color," temporized Minerva.

"Just imagine him without the robe," suggested Hetty, adding "or maybe in a floor-length dressing gown" in response to the grossed -out silence that settled on the group.

Minerva shoved Viviane at Severus with such force that they were forced to grab at each other to keep from falling over.

"I hope you're satisfied," growled Severus, as the procession streamed past.

"Go to hell," replied Viviane.

_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Are they _aiming_ for our noses?" Severus' glare increased in intensity as faculty and students wafted by, showering them with herbs and flower petals.

"I think so," said Viviane, who had just been hit in the proboscis with a huge sprig of rue. "But they do make easy targets."

The Potions master caught himself in mid-amused snort and tried to look dignified. "I see Dumbledore is beginning the casting of the circle - wait, he has to pause and let that Nimue on his hip finish her orgasm." Her high-pitched squeals died away, joined by Merlin's satisfied, "Now _that_ was a good lay."

Severus sighed and crossed his arms.

Viviane idly picked at the roses on her head, until the pickproof spell Minerva put on them kicked in, and one of them nipped at Viviane's finger. "Damn," she said, shaking her finger, "it is time they came to fetch us-" The sight of a familiar shape against the sky, gliding towards them, made her catch her breath.

"Merlin's overtaxed liver, how did they manage to get that ribbon around Malhereuse? And who is going to escort us to the circle?" she said, just as Severus cooed, "Fidelis, my faithful one, come to Sevvie." Viviane glanced down to see the little spaniel, nearly overpowered by a huge silver bow, come running down the slope towards them.

"Oh no, they didn't. Oh, er, Severus-" she began, but Snape ignored her, slapping his knees to urge his beloved pet forward.

Fidelis had only gotten halfway there when Malhereuse dove into an admirable rendition of the Wronsky feint and, with a triumphant cry, seized the tiny spaniel. An appreciative cheer from Harry and the twins drifted down to them. "I bet ten Galleons on the falcon," cried George. "Done," said Fred. "You don't know what that damned spaniel is capable of."

Severus' face drained of what little color it possessed as he watched his pet carried off, and he grabbed Viviane's arm. "Call him back."

It was the deadliest whisper Viviane had ever heard. 'Er, he's not exactly well trained-"

"I know that." The whisper got even deadlier, and he stood on his tiptoes to loom over her more effectively. "Call him back. Or do you really want me to tell Malfoy, in public, why his brooms have become so terribly unruly?"

Viviane glared at him. "You were involved in that little scene, too…" she began, then sighed. "Oh all right; unlike you, I have a reputation to uphold. I'll try to get him back."

Hitching up her skirts, she took off across the fields. After finishing up his bout of crazed laughter, Snape bundled his own over his arm and followed her as she ran, calling for her pet and occasionally tripping and sprawling on the lawn in a compelling show of legs and garters. "Thank goodness my gown won't show grass stains," she thought. "I'm terrible at laundry charms." At the top of a hill, she spotted her pet wheeling around the circumference of a bog, occasionally swooping down to drag the tiny dog in the muck before climbing skyward again.

"Damn you, you recalcitrant falcon, give him here," she called. "I don't care how irritating he is….Malhereuse! Now!" Viviane turned to Severus, shrugging. "He seems to be having too much fun to stop."

Snape was about to retort, or maybe kill her, when both of them suddenly found themselves face down on the grass, tackled respectively by Hooch and Arthur Weasley. "Got 'em!" Hetty cried. "I told Dumbledore you should never leave the couple alone, outside the circle. They always make a run for it." At that moment Malhereuse dropped a filthy and howling Fidelis on Snape's back, then fluttered down to rest on Viviane's shoulder.

As their captors stood up and brushed off their formal robes, Severus tried to reach around to grab Fidelis, who was running up and down the length of his back, leaving muddy paw prints on the crimson silk. Viviane wrinkled her nose. "Was that a sulfur bog, or did your mangy pup fart?" Fidelis paused in his frantic gambolings to bite Viviane on the ear, causing Malhereuse to attempt to pounce on the pup once again. Hetty and Arthur paused for a moment to watch the melee of falcon, dog, and Professors as Severus curled his body around Fidelis to save him from the irritated raptor, who was being pulled off of the Potions master by Viviane, leaving large chunks of fabric in his claws.

"You take Severus, Arthur, and I'll subdue Viviane," said Hetty, throwing herself into the fight with rather frightening enthusiasm.

"Uh, sure, Hetty," replied Arthur, wondering which of his children would disappear as a result of his unwelcome interaction. He hoped it would be Percy, that starchy freak.

The circle had been cast and everyone was standing around, watching the slightly bedraggled bride and groom approach, their arms gripped by an authoritative Hetty and Arthur. "I told you sending their pets to escort them was a bad idea," whispered Hermione to Lavender. Lavender scowled, remembered where she was, and simpered instead, unintentionally irritating Hermione even more.

As the couple paused outside the circle, Dumbledore held out his arms towards them. "Do you wish to enter the circle, to plight your troth in front of those who love and support you?"

Viviane rolled her eyes. "Not really- YES!" she shouted, burned in the ass by a curse from Hetty's wand.

After a sharp poke from Arthur, Snape surled, "If you insist."

Harry Potter came forward and cut a door in the circle, outlined by bludgers rendered in golden sparks. Ginny fainted in admiration.

"That kid is such a damned showoff," Viviane muttered as they passed through.

"This is NOT a sporting event," growled Severus.

Dumbledore lead them to the middle of the circle, then asked, "Does anyone have anything to say to the bride or groom on this momentous occasion?" Viviane and Severus looked alarmed and reached for their wands. Minerva stepped forward.

"As the witness for Viviane, I would like to say that since her arrival at Hogwarts, our dull, daily routine of terrible emergency, classes, feast, terrible emergency, classes, feast has been irrevocably changed. We now have to cope with the screaming bouts of temper, falcon feces and wailing orgasms that echo through the Hogwarts Floo network, breaking up the monotony of our perilous days. Only someone as antisocial and unwashed as our own Severus Snape could tempt Viviane to settle down into a more domestic routine." Her expression, until then a weird cross between sternness and sweeping romantic girlishness, crossed over entirely into sternness. "And Severus, I suggest establishing a specific pattern to your lovemaking. That noise she makes would be more tolerable if we knew exactly when to expect-"

Dumbledore interrupted in his most graceful manner.

"That's enough of that. Remus? You wanted to say something?"

Remus stepped forward, drooping gracefully beneath his tastefully tattered robes.

"I say, Professor Lupin, are you over your transformation yet? You look like you need some soup," exclaimed Oliver, insinuating his talented fingers underneath the Professor's fascinating elbow.

Remus smiled tenderly upon the handsome lad. "No, my dear Oliver, it was a rough night in…other ways-"

"Hands off, BiggerWood," snapped Sirius, taking possession of the elbow in question. "Haul your Scottish ass off to the back of the circle." Remus, with a gentle squeeze, put Sirius lightly aside, after a sexy, quirky look that made Sirius whimper and lick his friend's face before desisting.

"Ahem. My dearest Viviane. You've been my companion through the tough, early post-Voldemort years, back when you killed people for actual reasons. I watched you grow from a pretty, lusty, murderous girl to a scarred, lusty, murderous woman. I'm so glad you found someone to share your aggressive behavior. And even though I'm not the least bit sexually interested in you, I'd like to say that you were the one person I might have been tempted to marry. After all, you do have an amazing collection of antiques, not to mention the loveliest breasts, crowned by nipples equal to-"

He was cut off by Sirius dragging him back behind the flock of girls, who were applauding in a mist of romantic tears. Wiping one away, Hermione thought, "Why are all the decent wizards gay or taken?" She glanced at Ron, who was surreptitiously trying to rearrange his scrotum, and at Harry, who was giving her one of those smoldering, green-heat glances she found so frightening. It made her want to run back to the library at top speed, and hold _The Encyclopaedia of Wizard Everything _protectively in front of her womanhood. "Why can't boys approach sex in a cold, intellectual manner, like...like..." She looked around, and her eyes fell upon the twitching Potions Master. "Like Professor Snape. Surely, his cerebral attitude towards...it...is far less sloppy, and more condusive to an earth-shattering first time, than the adapted Quidditch moves of _some _people." She clenched her perky buttocks in a spasm of frustration, and wiped away another tear, as one more unwelcome thought elbowed its way through her crowded brain. "Why are all the sexually interesting wizards legally unavailable and frightfully unattractive?"

"I wanna say something." Moody clumped to the center of the assembly, and tried to glare, but his whirly blue eye insisted on looking bemused. "Damn thing," he muttered. "Severus, you've made some terrible decisions in your life. I've wanted to punish you for a long time, boy. But-" He clapped Severus on the back, causing the Potions Master to jump and emit a reflexive Avada Kedavra from his wand. It hit Neville Longbottom, who died instantly. "Just leave him there," advised Narcissa. "We're going to mulch this area next spring, anyway."

"Now, maybe the rumors will stop and Harry will notice me," thought Ginny, who Avada Kedavra'd Neville again, just to make sure he was dead, and nudged his body to the edge of the circle.

"But," Moody continued, "You've taken that task off my hands. I wish you joy of your hideously scarred, criminal wife, who I'm sure will make you onion soup and kiss you on demand. Heh. Heheheheh. I always did rather like you, boy. Nice wardrobe. Decent attitude. The spy thing. You know. You've done a fine job, spying and all, saving Hogwarts, saving the sigilstance... " His voice trailed off and he stomped back to his place, swigging from his hip flask.

"He did _not_ save Hogwarts," protested Viviane in a whisper, causing Severus to stomp on her foot. A truly impressive bout of hymeneal shin-kicking appeared imminent, when Lucius Malfoy stepped forward.

"As the only person who would consent to be Severus' witness, I'd like to say that you are never to bring your wife into my house. She stays in the garden with the gnomes. The potential combination of your obviously low-rent gene pool and her stagnant morass of repulsive inbreeding should terrify anyone, but obviously, these fools at Hogwarts haven't acquired any sense since the last time they screwed up and let Voldemort waltz off into some Moravian forest."

The bride and groom nodded. "Thank you, Lucius," said Viviane, while Lucius and Severus shook hands.

Dumbledore bounced forward. "Time for the binding! Time for the binding!" he sang merrily.

"Er, do we need to touch each other…or clasp hands…or something…" asked Viviane.

The Headmaster bounced in place, making his spectacles perform a can-can. "Oh no! Not at all! Gookyfunk! Twibbledweet! I have got a better idea. I think you two need more than a mere ribbon to bind you together." He waved his wand and a Lethifold came swooping down over the crowd, to wrap itself around the shrinking couple. Its hide was completely covered in gold, purple, and magenta sequins, all sparkling magically at once. The screams of Viviane and Severus as they were completely enfolded by the beast made everyone smile, as the couple fought to get away from each other and out from under the Lethifold.

"Great Merlin, the Headmaster has gone and murdered Elvis for his wardrobe," muttered Hermione.

Dumbledore tapped on the writhing sequins of the Lethifold. "Severus, would you please declare your love for this woman, at length, and in suitably flowery language? And promise to support her hopes, dreams and aspirations-"

A muffled, "I bloody do, already. Let me out of here," was heard.

"Viviane, please tell us, using as many adjectives as possible, and with concrete examples, why you love Severus. And promise to support his hopes, dreams and aspirations in both his personal- "

Everyone hastily performed a Deafening Charm on themselves, so nobody but Dumbledore heard Viviane say, "If you don't let me out of here, I will make myself a widow. Now get this thing off of us."

Dumbledore giggled. "What are the magic words, Viviane?"

A sullen silence was followed by a surly, "I promise."

"Let's open this circle and start the reception!" cried Dumbledore.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Lethifold unwrapped itself from around the squirming couple with a spate of very rude Leth that nobody present understood. Giving Dumbledore a parting thwack over the head, it flapped away, thinking, "That's the last time I'll ever agree to do a handfasting. I must get over my weakness for bespectacled wizards who are prone to whimsy. But he had such nice hands and an incomparable collection of hosiery..."

Seeing the creature release the newly bound couple, everyone de-Deafened themselves, with many gasps and raised eyebrows at the spectacle on the grass.

"Dearest Viviane has always been precipitate, but this-"whispered Minerva.

"Oh, GROSS,"cried Oliver, hiding his eyes in Remus'shoulder.

Hetty let out a lascivious chortle. "Severus, I'm impressed by your enthusiasm, which was not too evident when I jumped out of that cake. Unlike some others." She winked at Flitwick, who broke into a Safety Dance.

Severus glared at all of them from his position between Viviane's upraised knees, and then, using Flitwick's head for a prop, stumbled upright, stepping on Viviane in a most deliberate manner.

"There's...nothing...impressive...about him..."growled out Viviane. She struggled to her feet, only to be felled with a most unbridely "Oomph,"as she tripped over the broom shoved against her shins.

"Your turn,"chorused Hetty and Sprout, holding the ends of the broom. Snape stood and pouted until Hetty began to tickle Sprout in the crotch with the prickly end, whereupon Snape attempted a jump simply to make her stop.

The pout turned into an anguished howl as Sprout jerked her end of the broom upwards, connecting smartly with his scrotum. He promptly fell over on top of Viviane.

"Look at 'em go! They can't keep their crotches off of one another!"chortled Sirius. "Why don't you two just consummate it now and give us all a lusty, yet hilariously inept spectacle?"

"Not on my lawn,"snapped Lucius. "I like my gardens untraumatized."

"Have I ever declared that I hate you all? Well, I do,"said Severus, ripping the heads off of several daisies growing within reach.

"Get off of me, you whey-faced nimrod,"grunted Viviane, pushing against his chest, but suddenly he was removed from atop her with no further effort on her part, and dropped into the grass a few feet away.

"Viviane!"drawled the wizard in front of her, hair a little greyer but eyes still the same electric blue. "I haven't seen you since you were chased out of Shipley by that mob - oh, and there's your friend, the werewolf. Good afternoon, Snarly. What was your name again? Remus? Nice to see you're still around."

Viviane lay on the grass, blinking up at him. "Mortimer? How the hell did you find me?"

As the gangster helped her to her feet, he began to laugh. "Dumbledore thought I should be here to bless the union. So you're married to that sorry sod in the red dress? I've seen whores on the prowl dressed with more taste. Congratulations on your exotic new husband."

Severus, brushing off his robes, looked over. "Oh, the professional assassin and smuggler has come to swell the joyous crowd. Brilliant, Viviane. Tell me, are your former, er, customers going to arrive as well, or are there any left you haven't killed?"

Dumbledore bounded into their midst. "Am I to assume that everyone's digestive systems are signaling that replenishment is needed? Mine is quite emphatic on that point, and I know Malfoy's abused, downtrodden house-elves have prepared a special feast for us all."

"Goody!"everyone cried, and began to race down the hill towards the feast.

"Hey!"the spirits yelled after them. "You haven't opened the circle yet!"

"As if proper rules matter to this crowd,"commented Hermione, staying behind to finish up the ceremony on her own, and suggest improvements to the ritual that would save time, deepen the meaning, and finish up any laundry lying about the participant's homes. Bored to near-death, the spirits took themselves off halfway through her dissertation for a gin and tonic.

The feast was set out in an arbor festooned with gilded Hinkypunks chained to trellises full of climbing roses. The roses were beginning to look rather shabby, since the Hinkypunks were using them to show their resentment at their glittery fate. Ignoring the chorus of congratulations, Viviane and Severus took their seats at the elaborate thrones at the high table and looked around for service.

Some trembling house-elves offered the champagne punch to Severus and Viviane. Viviane pulled out her wand. "If you don't find me something much, much stronger right away, any punishment Malfoy has ever inflicted will feel like a professional massage. Got it?"

As the elf scurried away, Severus yelled, "Bring enough for me, too."

The feast appeared on the golden plates. Viviane looked down at hers, and her rose-crowned, off-alabaster brow became corrugated in puzzlement. "Er, my chops are...doing something. They...they seem to be, uh..."

"Fornicating,"Severus intoned, impaling one of his with his fork. The other began to weep until he speared it with his knife.

"Would evil Death Eater Potions Master Expert Virgin Deflowerer like some Scotch, evil Death Eater Potions Master Expert Virgin Deflowerer?"asked the house-elf, returning with a huge bottle of Old Ogdens and a dislocated shoulder, earned from throwing itself downstairs in a spasm of uncertainty and guilt over secretly believing Einstein's theory of probability.

"Wrong fic, unfortunately,"muttered Severus, snatching the bottle and pouring a drink for himself and Viviane.

"Sot,"snapped Viviane. Severus elbowed her in the corset.

Fred and George sat down at one of the distant tables, scanning the crowd of girls and ruffles. "Where are Angelina and Alicia?"asked George.

Fred pouted. "They're playing Quidditch. You know they have no other reason to exist. Although..."

George raised one sandy eyebrow. Fred hated him for the ability to do this.

"...I think they're also allowed to shag us, on occasion. But this obviously isn't one of them."

Fred may not have been able to perform the one-eyebrow trick, but he did have the yearly good idea. "Come on, George," he whispered, and the twins slipped into the Malfoy basement.

Dumbledore stood up, and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Phosgoompleserum! Eldortweetmont! Some of you would like to present gifts to this couple, our newest example of the healing, improving, nourishing nature of love. Minerva?"

Rustling in her acres of silken plaid, Minerva came forward and placed a pair of gallon-sized silver goblets, studded with glowing rubies, on the table. "Knowing how much you two imbibe on any given day, this should save you time and effort. Just pour a couple of bottles of wine or hard liquor in each, and they will provide you both with more precious moments to spend with each other, instead of wasting them on worthless tasks like constant refills."

"Thank you Minerva,"chorused the handfasted pair, gratefully noting the holding capacity of the massive things.

Remus stepped forward, accompanied by Sirius. "My very dear Viviane, and my not-at-all-dear Severus, I, too, thought of a practical, time saving gift. Note what happens when we shed our clothing."

Their robes dropped away, and gasps of appreciation rippled through the crowd, accompanied by a few terrified screams from the girls'table, at the sight of Sirius'massive equipment, encased in a tiny pair of form-fitting underwear. The Slytherin house shield was frightfully distorted by the fascinating bumps over which it was stretched. Remus was clad in a dark green corset edged in black lace, the effect somewhat spoiled by his lack of voluptuous breasts. Remus turned to his well-equipped assistant, and they each grasped the other's crotch. The underwear flew off, leaving both men naked. There was a crash as Oliver Wood fainted, upsetting a table on his way down.

"Instead of the usually onerous task of unclothing each other, this provides a quick way out when all you want to do is put on a Barry White album and screw like a pair of horny pixies."

Hetty Hooch jumped up. "Oooh, that goes so well with my gift! Let me show you-"

Dumbledore got up, all of the Merlins and Nimues on his robes merging together in a really confusing orgy. "This splendid show of generosity from all of you has quite overwhelmed me, and if I twinkle any harder I might combust,"he said. "The rest of the gifts may be presented in private. Now, I believe it is time for the cake."

Hooch's subdued, insane giggle did little to reassure Viviane and Severus.

The cake arrived, borne by Dobby, Winky, and two of the slavish, interchangeable house-elves from the Hogwarts kitchens. Dobby was unhappy, chanting, "Hate Professors Chance and Snape. Professors Chance and Snape don't wear socks. Professors Chance and Snape don't recognize Dobby. Professors Chance and Snape use first person pronouns."

Winky cooed in alarm. "Oooh, Winky bad elf for existing. Winky bad elf for listening to Dobby rightfully abuse the horrible Professors. Does Dobby have a cat o'nine tails, or a thumbscrew so Winky can torture Winky?"

Sprout perked up and prepared to make a suggestion.

"No,"snapped Dobby. "Dobby can't think of everything." He and the other elves slapped the cake down in front of the nuptial couple and went to find trees against which to bang their heads. They were happy to find that Malfoy had been kind enough to add spikes at house-elf-forehead level to all of them.

Everyone sat in silence, staring at the multi-tiered cake looming in front of Viviane and Severus.

"Do you see anything...different about this cake, my dear Professors?"asked Dumbledore. "Come, now is no time to developing the art of fine manners and behavior resembling that of sane beings."

The bride and groom eyed each other suspiciously. Finally, Viviane ventured, "Er, it doesn't have icing?"

Flitwick leapt forward. "Correct! Oh, you are correct, you incomparably lusty, long-legged, can-I-hide-under-your-skirts wench - I mean Viviane. Here is my gift to you both, given with hope that this marriage will mean the end of two nasty, antisocial people and the beginning of a swooningly in-love, shining example of matrimony."

He waved his wand and with a "Tthhhh,"a miniature Malhereuse appeared. The facsimile falcon began to wing his way around the layers of the cake, producing copious droppings of white icing that coated the surface and bloomed into white iced roses. With another wave, a tinkle of chimes was heard, and an even more diminutive Fidelis appeared. He ran about, lifting his leg against the roses, turning them a brilliant shade of yellow.

"Time to cut the cake!" Dumbledore turned to Severus and handed him the cake knife. "Usually the bride does this, but considering...

"Excellent thought, Albus, for once." Snape grabbed the knife before Viviane could get her hands on it. He cut a slice and pulled his arm back, his face wearing a happy expression for the first time in days.

Viviane stared him down. "If you even attempt an assault with that cake, your life won't be worth a sou. Albus?"

Minerva pushed her chair back from the table. "Er, Albus, I believe that dinner filled me up. Too much kidney pie and haggis. Not interested in dessert, myself..."

A chorus of "Me too's"echoed across the garden, and people began to get up and gather around the punch bowl. Dumbledore pushed a pile of parchment towards the newly married couple.

"More paperwork, I'm afraid. Hogwarts records, etc." He handed them a golden quill. It was difficult to hold on to, because the Mordred and Morgan le Fey that made up the handle had applied body oil to themselves, and were squirming around each other in an ecstacy of lust.

As Viviane and Severus bent over, scribbling their names on a pile of parchment and occasionally wiping their fingers on the tablecloth, Dumbledore and Mortimer's eyes met.

"For a respectable old sod, you're quite the frisky one," Mortimer commented.

Dumbledore scintillated, then took Mortimer's goblet and set it on the table. "My dear boy, I've watched your unorthodox career with the utmost enjoyment. Come with me; I'd like to show you my Pensieve."

He leaned forward, giving Mortimer a scandalous buss on the cheek, and both disapparated.

Minerva looked up from guzzling punch. "You can't Apparate in Hogthwarths," she mumbled.

"_You_ may not," Dumbledore's voice echoed back, "but I make the rules, and right now I have evinced the need to satisfy the urgings of my erectile tissues, as well as expend my lust for a hot, middle-aged gangster."

"Oh,"said Minerva, and held out her glass for more punch. With a grin, Fred Weasley refilled it for her, then he and his brother retreated back to their table, loaded down with every sort of sweet, pastry and candy, except cake.

Severus and Viviane sat back down at their places, and guzzled whiskey while watching the crowd. It was rapidly thinning out.

"Where is everyone?"she commented to Severus, kicking him in the leg.

"Ouch!"responded a voice that was higher and far more excited than the morose Potion Master.

Peeking under their table, the pair saw Narcissa, writhing under the humping form of Percy, his tight Weasley buttocks, dusted with red-gold hair, working away in a manner to do the Ministry proud.

"Oh, sorry,"said Viviane, dropping the tablecloth.

"I've never made love to a man obsessed by rules and good behavior before,"Narcissa panted. "It's so very sexy."

"Thank you, Ma'am," said Percy.

Looking back over the crowd, the sight that met their eyes made Severus and Viviane quickly splash more Old Ogdens into their glasses.

Hetty and Germaine had tied Flitwick to the trellis, and were letting the Hinkypunks have their way with him as they, stripped naked, rolled in the grass together, laughing and pointing out the stranger Hinkypunk whims.

There was quite a melee going on in the bushes at the edge of the clearing, that seemed to involve Sirius, Oliver and what must have been Remus, since his shabby robe was lying in a heap in the middle of the lawn. There was a lot of bobbing going on.

Severus squinted at them. "I didn't know traditional Greek wrestling was so popular among wizards our age,"he said.

Viviane squirmed. "Right. Never mind. What on earth are the students doing?"

Hermione was being chased around the lawn by a herd of boys, headed by Harry. Ginny wasn't far behind, brandishing a huge knife and wailing, "He's mine, you peach-ruffled bitch! He's mine and you're going to die before you touch him! Just wait till we get back to Hogwarts. I'm going to make me some Kneazle stew."

Minerva, instead of stopping this untoward display, was splayed out in the grass, her hair in wild disorder. Professor Vector, his handsome chest bared by his unbuttoned robes, was whispering something in her ear. Whatever it was caused her to pull him down into an embrace so passionate they began rolling down the gentle slope of the lawn, shedding garments as they went. They cut the legs out from under Sinistra and Malfoy, who were in a state of dishabille and making for a summerhouse near the lake. Once down, they gave up on the summerhouse and began to make wild, impassioned love right there.

"I knew this was going to happen," Trelawney whimpered. "I told Dumbledore-"

She was effectively silenced by Blaise Zabini's tongue being shoved down her throat. Coming up for air, Zabini said, "I love misty, vacant women. They're so unsubstantial,"and then went back to tonsil-tickling.

"Well,"said Viviane, "This has been an appalling day, all told. I want a bath and a nap." She got up and started back towards the mansion.

"Wait, I'll join you,"said Severus, taking care to pick up the goblets Minerva had given them. "I need some sleep, myself, or perhaps a cup of hemlock."

"That latter option sounds like an excellent idea. Do I then inherit your posessions?"

Severus responded with a glare, just before they Apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. As they walked towards the castle, Snape said, "By the way, I hope you don't expect anything from me. You got me into this, but I'm not going to play husband to you. You're not to enter my dungeon, touch me, nor sit next to me at dinner. I don't want to be put off my appetite."

Viviane snarled at him. "Don't worry. My bed is off limits to you, now and always. We may be married, but we don't have to act like it. Agreed?"

"Agreed,"said Snape, and after stepping through the front door of Hogwarts, they each took their separate paths to the dungeons of Slytherin House and to Ravenclaw Tower.

Fred and George made their way to the Quidditch pitch, and spotted Angelica and Alicia whipping through the air, practicing their patented passes to each other.

"They'll be nice and thirsty,"said George, shaking the flask full of aphrodisiac-spiked punch. But I'm still not sure this was worth the sight of Oliver Wood's bouncing bare arse. On the other hand, I do want a good shagging."

Fred look the slightest bit abashed. "Do you think it's fair? Giving them this spiked punch?"

"Well, what else did we break into Malfoy's ingredients for? But you're right, it isn't quite fair..."

He regarded the flask for a moment, then took a swallow. Fred grabbed it and took a swig.

"All's fair now. And just think - most of the Professors are busy shagging all over Malfoy's lawn. We've got the run of Hogwarts."

"Collect Angelina and Alicia, then to the prefects bathroom?"

"You're on!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Severus stormed into the room, flourishing her message, furious at being interrupted in the middle of an angst-ridden drinking bout at the Three Broomsticks. "What is it? We've successfully avoided each other for weeks now-" He stopped, his slightly-unfocussed eyes growing wide as his mouth dropped open.

Sitting at a long table, laden with china, was Viviane, drinking from a large goblet of wine, one empty and one half-full bottle beside her.

"Where did you get this...this..."

"Atrocious china?" Viviane answered, staring mournfully at the plate in front of her. "Albus presented it to us for our handfasting, and requested that we give our first dinner party, as an, er, couple, tonight, for all of the Hogwarts Professors. It starts in an hour."

Severus gazed at the china, laden with iridescent butterflies, pixies and elves crawling amidst gold glitter and rose petals cascading across the glossy surface. The sight of sixteen place settings and the attendent serving pieces, all covered in happy, ceaseless motion, made him feel horribly nauseated. He walked over and dropped into the chair opposite Viviane.

"Wine?" she asked.

Ignoring her, he waved a bottle of Old Ogdens over from the sideboard and poured himself a full goblet. After trying to poke a pixie in the eye, only to get bitten, he drank down half of the whiskey at a gulp. "What are we serving?"

"Seaweed soup, boiled tripe, canned catfish over potted meat, blood sausage and sauerkraut and, for dessert, syllabub."

Severus drank the rest of his whiskey and poured himself another glass. "Sounds divine, my love. Give everyone my regrets - I've got a particularly noxious potion to brew this evening."

Viviane began to laugh. "My dearest husband, Albus specifically requested your presence here tonight. "This handfasting was all your fault, anyway."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Mine? The fault, Viviane, is yours. If you hadn't-"

Viviane set down her wineglass so forcefully that she had to try a quick repair to the stem. "Me? Me? Was I the one who just had to tell Albus what had happened-"

"I thought he would help. I thought he would immediately understand that never in my right mind would I think of marrying-"

"You certainly thought of it that...that night. Dragging me off to some half-witted judge while I was too drunk to know better." She gave up trying to mend the stem of her glass and tossed it over her shoulder, reaching for another. "Drunker even than I am now."

Severus continued to empty his glass of Old Ogdens, and rapidly refill it, matching Viviane's pace with her wine. "I remember perfectly what happened. It was you who begged me to marry, and hustled me off before I knew what I was doing. You took dreadful advantage of an incapacitated wizard. You tricked me into this, and now I'm stuck with you, and your falcon, and this unspeakable china." He glanced at it again, and shuddered.

He jumped as a plate whizzed by his head, and shattered against the mantelpiece. "Bah! You remember nothing. You were just as shocked as I was by the evidence the next morning," she shouted. Both of them quieted down for a moment and blushed, thinking of the embarrassing photo locked securely in the depth of Severus' largest safe.

Recovering first, Viviane continued her tirade. "You are a dimwit nonpareil," she hissed, glaring at him in green fury. "We did exactly what Albus wanted us to do. He's been beside himself, worrying that we'd fall out permanently and render the Talisman useless. Remember that little detail? That little trinket we created in a moment of passion and idiocy? We all assume that that dratted Potter boy will conquer Voldemort. But Albus now knows he's got another option, and he'll do anything to make sure that option stays intact. With Potter's record for spectacular muck-ups, we'll probably need to use the thing in the end. Damn him." _Crash! _A finger bowl met its fate against the wainscot. "Damn them both." _Crash! _A bread plate glanced off of Severus' shoulder and dropped to the floor, scattering shards everywhere. "Damn _you_, you bloody fool." _Crash! _Another finger bowl shattered behind him, after grazing his ear. The elves on the still-intact china began screaming in panic.

"Er, Viviane-"

"Devereaux do not eat off of pixies and rosebuds!" she shrieked, throwing a teacup which he parried with the plate in front of him, breaking both.

As the saucer flew by, he gave up on diplomacy and reached for one of the matching faux-Sevres vases in the middle of the table, removing the arrangement of thistles and Venus flytraps and hefting it for a moment before aiming it squarely at Viviane's head. She ducked just in time, and it shattered against the portrait of Algernon Zwieback with a thoroughness that was balm to Severus' soul. Algernon protested.

"Shut up!" chorused Viviane and Severus, scooting their chairs down the table in search of more weapons, wine and whisky in hand.

"Since you raised the subject of muck-ups, I wouldn't be too hard on Potter," remarked Severus, reaching for the gravy boat. "You failed to save Cedric Diggory."

Viviane leaped to her feet, making inarticulate, drunken noises, and picked up the massive platter meant for roasts.

Severus held up his hands. "No, don't. Don't. Viviane, that's-"

She stepped back to hurl it at him with all of her strength, but inebriation spoiled her aim and it landed on the table, exploding into a rain of sharp fragments. One of them cut across Severus' forearm, bringing him to his feet in rage. "Look at that!" he thundered, leaning across the table to shove his arm under Viviane's nose. "You cut me!"

_He _is_ awfully sexy when he's furious, confound my wretched taste in men_, thought Viviane, noting how his eyes came alive and his thin lips unclamped as he forgot his reserve in anger.

After a moment's pause, she puckered her lips into a mock pout. "Oh dear. Does little Sevvie have a boo-boo?" She grabbed his arm and slowly lapped up the trickle of blood meandering down the codlike skin of his wrist. His breath caught and he froze, staring at her as she drew away to look at him through her eyelashes and strands of untidy hair, running her wine-stained tongue around her lips.

_Damn my festering soul, she's gorgeous when she's mussed_, Severus thought.

"Come here," he said, grabbing her under the armpits and tugging her up and across the table, kicking and wriggling, to the destruction of the inoffensive stemware.

"If I wasn't...so drunk....you'd never...be able to do this..." she panted, struggling against him as he pinned her to the table with one arm. He bent over her, his breath sharp on her face.

"Before you came to Hogwarts, my life was complicated and exasperating. Now my life is complicated and intolerable. You and your games. Mind games. Power games. Sex-"

Viviane's lips curled down in contempt. "You didn't mind the sexual games that night after the Tournament. But then, it must have been years since a woman had taken pity on you."

Severus' pale skin blanched to a slightly blue tinge, and he grabbed her gown by the neck, hands tugging desperately in opposite directions. Viviane began a loud, drunken laugh.

"You weak fool...you didn't mind it when I rescued you from Glossop...when we created the Talisman..."

A steak knife was pressed to her throat, then lightly trailed down her breastbone. "I came looking for you in that seedy Muggle pub," remarked Severus. The knife continued downward, the tip finally slipped between her breasts and caught underneath the fabric. "I found you in the garden that first night, followed you after Lucius upset you, and nearly ruined my mission with thoughts of you," he commented, his body taut, but his voice casual. Viviane gasped as the knife tipped up, creating a small rend in the silk of her gown. Tossing the knife aside, he ripped the gown apart, the silk tearing easily down its length.

He stepped back to gaze at her. "Ah, the linen. I forgot the linen," he said, and picked up the knife again, carefully cutting away her underclothing. As he dropped the knife again, she reached out and dragged him down to her.

"I'm at a disadvantage," she said. Viviane ran her hands over the row of buttons adorning his shirt and trousers, and they flew off, bouncing amongst the fragments of china on the floor.

"Why do you harbor such a vendetta against my fastenings?"asked Severus, momentarily aggrieved.

"Better," she said, ignoring his question and pulling aside his shirt, running her hands down the turnip-white skin of his torso, only to grab the edges of the fabric and pull him down to her for a kiss that made his elbows tremble.

He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her from the table to press her against his body, unable to deny, even to himself, just how much he wanted her. From the way she captured his lower lip between her teeth, scraping lightly against the flesh, it was evident she wanted him every bit as badly.

"Annoyance and lust so inescapably linked. I wonder…" he mumbled into Viviane's neck, then rolled both of them onto the table.

"You're so good at necks,"panted Viviane, proceeding to rip the rest of his clothing off. "Are you sure you aren't a vampire?"

"No, I'm not at all sure one way or the other,"said Severus, applying his tongue to a convenient nipple. Happily, it was one of hers. "I do have some of the signs, but I haven't come to any conclusion yet."

"You academics," sighed Viviane. "Oh, do that laving nipple thing again - yes, that. You need to learn to make decisions."

"I can make decisions,"replied Severus, indignant. "I've decided I"m going to make raw, violent love to you, right now."

To Viviane's great delight, he began to do so. The elves on the butter dish lying a few inches from her foot began to make their last wills and testaments.

"What is that noise? And why is the door locked?"asked Flitwick, rattling the doorknob with one hand and reading his invitation with the other. "She wrote down 8 p.m. Even if punctuality is unknown to Viviane, Severus should be here to let us in."

A wailing grunt reached their ears, in the unmistakable deep tones of the Potions master. It was accompanied by a sound like shattering glass, and a shriek in Viviane's well-known voice.

"It seems we won't be getting any dinner. Lets go to the Three Broomsticks and get drunk instead,"said Hetty. "They're either having sex, or killing each other."

"Probably both,"sighed Minerva. "I wouldn't mind a drink or two."

Valerian Vector took her arm. "My dear Minerva, what an excellent idea. And then a walk around the lake? There's a lovely slope to the lawn there, that is calling to me. Would you like to join me in a sensual roll in the dew-laden grass?"

Ignoring Hetty's snorts, Minerva shrouded herself in a fog of dignity and walked off with Professor Vector, leaving the others to follow and Viviane and Severus to finish up and tenderly pick shards of china out of each others' arse.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Severus turned and sighed, not willing quite yet to awaken, but the sound of water rushing into that monstrous tub of Viviane's would not let him go back to sleep. Something was bothering him. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered just what was poking at his psyche this morning. He hadn't killed or tortured anyone for a good long time, and the students had kept well out of his way after he'd used the handy 'penis on the forehead' spell on Susan Bones for laughing at his married state. The impossibly-perfect American exchange students had taken to calling her Susan Boner. Severus didn't quite get the joke, but since it appeared to be malicious in context, he was beginning to have hope for that wretched group of heretofore glowingly beautiful, happy, and sweet imports. At least, he thought, they were all in Gryffindor, therefore not his problem, and had gotten well over the tragic deaths of all of their parents. Perhaps Viviane had been coaching them upon that point.

Racking his sleepy brains for a clue to his unease, the only thing he could recall that had been any different yesterday was that Viviane had turned in early. She had a full day of classes following a morning appointment with Dumbledore at....Snape glanced at the clock.

Nine o'clock. It was 7:48 now. She must have set her alarm for eight o'clock, and instructed the house elves to start the bath at quarter till the hour, Severus decided..

With a few blinks and a snort of surprise, Severus realized that his state of mind was connected with the unusual events of the previous night. Since the non-dinner party and after returning from their honeymoon, he and Viviane had fallen into a cozy routine of spending the early evening in his dungeon, then going up to her rooms after dinner for a drink and bed. Last night had not been nearly as pleasant, spending the last few hours alone with his cauldron, and coming upstairs to find her chambers dark and she herself asleep. He had had an anecdote he'd been dying to tell about Astris Wellington-Bunsonby and a multiplying potion she'd spilled on her breast; the lost opportunity to make Viviane laugh rankled, somehow.

Lying still, he tried getting used to the feeling of missing someone as he'd missed her last night. Missing her presence by his fireside, the contemptuous flare of her nostrils as she read, the opportunity to throw out a question to her about the potion he was brewing. No sane person would let her touch a cauldron, but her grasp of Potions theory was, he had to admit, rather spectacular. He'd been surprised by that, as well as at how industrious she actually was in preparing for her classes, considering the disasters they usually turned out to be, and the two of them spent hours in companionable silence, he brewing and she reading, occasionally interrupting each other with a comment or a hilariously cruel anecdote about one of the students. Severus glanced over at Viviane, sprawled out in her usual complete surrender to sleep, then reached out for her. With a murmur, she spooned back against him, her hand closing over his.

The gesture drew her out of her deep slumber, and as she wriggled back against the warmth of Severus, she allowed herself the tiniest smile of disbelief at where she was - in bed with her husband. Viviane never thought she'd be a player in that particular scenario, but surprisingly, it was rather nice. Nice to curl up by Severus' hearth with her research, and have him there to answer whatever questions her lesson plans might bring up. Exciting to learn how to be able to call a gleam of amusement or admiration into his eyes at will, then admire their dark-as-a-stagnant-pond beauty. She'd even almost gotten over being mortified whenever he caught her doing so, and his nasty, one-up-on-you smile had mellowed into something like embarrassment. And then there were the unaccountably jealous looks she'd gotten from numerous females as word of the handfasting got out. She'd never noticed before, but perhaps there was something rather attractive about Severus, besides his eagerness to satiate her own particular needs.

Even some of the female students seemed to be ensnared by Severus' mysterious charm. She'd surprised Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil speculating about her husband's underclothing instead of practicing their Turbulence Curse, which she punished by immediately Charming off their clothes. Parvati was especially mortified when it became evident she eschewed underclothing altogether, but was speedily consoled by the plethora of boys asking her for dates, with even a few Slytherins expressing interest. And Pansy...Viviane made a mental note to do some undergarment mentoring with poor Pansy. Then there was the grilling she'd gotten from Hermione Granger, ostensibly for her Muggle Studies class, on the consummation rituals of wizards versus Muggles, which, although she said she'd chosen to interview Viviane for her vast experience in both worlds, seemed to focus rather intently on the practice of one wizard in particular. Viviane fell back asleep, wondering just what it was about that wizard that caused such a furor in witchy hearts.

As Viviane settled into the curve of his body, Severus continued to mull over the strange change in his life. To his still reverberating shock, he was finding that marriage to Viviane wasn't so bad. It certainly was rather satisfying to face Malfoy these days as husband to a Devereaux, and be able to casually mention how pleasant their honeymoon had been at the family villa in Nice. Viviane had never been to her parents' summer home, and they had had a splendid time going over the magnificent house, perched on the edge of the Mediterranean. If only she had agreed to black out the windows of the sun room to make a potions laboratory...well, he would work on convincing her, Severus decided.

Noticing that the clock had sped on to 7:57, he stretched out one long arm to slap the alarm bell off. The clock pulled in the switch as it fell off the night stand and rolled under the bed. "It never ends," the timepiece sighed. "Why couldn't she have married that nice redheaded lad that used to stop by?"

Tightening his grasp on Viviane, Severus nuzzled through warm hair to her ear. "Time to get up, wife,"he intoned in his most bone-vibrating voice.

"Mmmm...damn," mumbled Viviane. "What happened to my alarm, husband?" she asked, turning around and sliding beneath him, draping her arms around his neck.

"I turned it off, my other half," he said, pushing errant hanks of hair away from her face.

"May I ask what time it is, my consort?" Viviane ran her fingers through his oily/silky coiffure and began to laugh.

"Time for your bath, spouse."

"Legal mate."

"What about 'lord and master,'" Severus queried, before succumbing to laughter himself as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Even after a month, this game had not lost its charm.

"That one is off limits," Viviane whispered, before brushing her lips across his chest. "You mentioned a bath?"

"I did. But you've left ample time to get ready," Severus said, shifting his body in order to rub one insinuating, slightly greasy thigh against her drier, ivory one. "Besides, you were already asleep when I came up last night."

"So I was. But I didn't want to face whatever sneaky plan Albus is probably going to spring on me, tired and reeking of the sweet juices of lust."

Severus nibbled on her shoulder. "You mentioned a bath?" He abandoned the shoulder for a kiss, as Viviane ran her hands down his chest and bent her head towards his. Just as his hands wandered to her more interesting bodily areas, she let out a screech and tumbled off of him.

A huge barn owl had bounced out of her fireplace, dropping a heavy envelope on her back. Viviane retrieved it from among the tangle of the covers, and ripped it open. Severus sat up and caught her shoulder, pulling her into the curve of his arm as she opened the thick packet. The owl eyed Malhereuse, who ruffled and glared. The other bird pretended he didn't exist and began to eat the pet mice Viviane had confiscated from Lee Jordan.

"How odd," she said. "This is from Mortimer, of all people."

Unfolding the note attached to the top of a pile of parchment, she read the contents with a start of surprise:

_My dear Viviane,_

_I hadn't given you a handfasting gift yet, so here it is. I've sent notices about your change of status to everyone at Hogwarts and in the outlying vicinities, so you needn't bother making an announcement. I apologize for the delay, but pushing these things through can be tricky. I'll have you know that I called in several favors to get this through as quickly as I did. Congratulations on your new freedom, and tell that overdressed bat, your now ex-husband, to keep an eye on my favorite assassin, even if he is no longer married to her._

_Mortimer._

_P.S. The signatures are really yours - I stuck the papers in that pile Dumbledore gave you at the reception. That old duffer has quite a Pensieve. Did you know?_

Flipping through the rest of the packet, she gasped. "Er...he's give us...well, he's-"

"What does that wretched gangster want, now?" groused Severus, annoyed at being interrupted on the verge of getting morning sex. "Has he given you a cache of stolen property, or perhaps a few well-preserved corpses?" He snatched at the papers.

"Er, no. As a matter of fact, he's given us...well, we're, er-"

"Divorced," stated Snape, his face blank as he read the documents, then threw them across the room, disgruntling the birds and creating a brief blizzard of legal parchment. "That bastard divorced us without even asking!"he shouted. "Hang around with common criminals long enough, and they feel they have a right to just up and divorce you! Did you connive with him, in order to humiliate me-"

Viviane pulled away. "Well, it is what you wanted, isn't it? To get out of this mess? So get out. Get out of my bed, get out of my rooms, just get out. We're free of each other."

"I most certainly will," he stated, and slid out of bed, grabbing at his dressing gown. He gained the fireplace, but paused before reaching for the Floo powder. The total silence told him that the bath was now full. In that second, Viviane called his name, her voice hesitant and slightly desperate. The dressing gown slid out of his hands, and something made his heart feel like it had just received an unexpected gift of purest oxygen, or perhaps a draught of Ogden's very best single-malt.

He turned around and she was standing next to the bed, naked and dishevelled, the light in her antifreeze-puddle green eyes quenched and her hands twisting together.

"Severus, I didn't...it wasn't…"

He slumped back against the door. "I know." A glint stole into Severus' eyes, one that was answered by a similar spark in hers. "You don't happen to have know of any, er, rituals? For divorce? A family tradition, perhaps, or is there a French ritual I haven't heard of, maybe including baths, to, er, wash away the old relationship?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't know of any."

Severus bounced impatiently. "Well, you're French, and the French pride themselves on creating new, faddish rituals. So..."

Viviane began to grin, and held out her arms to him. "So I am. Yes, I think a new divorce ritual including a bath is a splendid-"

Before she could say more, Severus took two long strides forward, and gracefully dipping a shoulder, swung her over it and bore her away to the bathroom. He waded into the waist-deep pool that Viviane called a tub, and slid her body down his, flesh whispering against flesh. She gained her feet but continued sliding downward, pulling him by the shoulders into the warm water until they were submerged up to their necks, limbs entwined.

"Shall I wash off the old relationship with a large helping of vetiver soap?" Viviane asked, reaching for her soap dish.

"Not now, my former spouse. I've got other plans for this ritual," Severus said, pulling her even closer as she leaned back to wet her hair.

"Do tell, rendered marital chain," said Viviane.

"I'd rather show you," he said, and reaching for his wand, rolling near the edge of the tub where he'd dropped it, he cast a Buoyancy Charm on the both of them. Viviane began to stretch and purr, as she found herself bobbing a few inches below the surface of the water without making the least effort. Severus unfolded his long body beside hers, running an exploratory hand down her torso. Viviane brushed a teasing hand over his bobbing manhood, eliciting a lascivious groan from her ex-husband.

"What an interesting feeling,"she murmured. "I may have something to add." Skimming her hand across the water, she whispered, "Champagne le Triton, s'il vous plait." The water began to shimmer with the tiniest of bubbles, popping against their skin in tiny liquid explosions.

"Rather nice," commented Severus, before rolling over on top of her.

"Won't you get cold, with your back exposed like that," Viviane asked, splashing water over him.

"I never get cold with you," Severus replied, shutting out her surprised expression as he closed his eyes and kissed her, his fingers tracing her shoulder blades and playing along her spine.

She arched against him for a moment, but broke away and ran a finger down his nose. "Perhaps I'm just reflecting back what you give me, the confidence and the companion-"

They both froze and bobbed silently amongst the bubbles, embarrassment filling the bathroom like the murkiest of steam-laden fogs. Severus recovered first.

"Er, Viviane, since we're divorced, I shall be, how do the Americans phrase it, on the warpath."

"Rebound," she corrected him.

"Rebound." Severus bent his head down to nuzzle her belly and blow a few bubbles against her skin. "That means I'll need a lover. Do you know of any witches who might be interested in a Potions master with greasy hair, but a most impressive nose?"

Viviane sighed in a frenzy of lust, then turned her attention to the question. "Oh. That. Yes, there are a few that come to mind." She found she could, by grasping his jaw, slide underneath him so that they were once again face to face. Severus loosened his grasp on her, but left his hands in place as she moved down his body. It made Viviane's sigh of lust grow to a shudder. "One in particular. Sweet. Pliable. Amenable to reason."

He groaned into her neck. "Sounds ghastly. I'd rather find an impossible Frenchwoman harboring scars and a mad streak."

Viviane bit him lightly on the ear. "What would you do with such a woman, Severus? I want you to show me."

"I intend to do just that, my dearest ex-wife," he told her, and to her utmost delight, kept his word.

The End.


End file.
